Jigsaw
by Simply Kim
Summary: Ran whacked him on the head with the end of his katana's sheath. 'If you still want to escape your past, bump your head hard against the metal ball of the huge tractor downtown and get yourself a severe case of amnesia. It works the same way.'
1. 01 Milieu

**TITLE:** Jigsaw

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**PART:** One of Six

**WORD COUNT: **2,779

**CHARACTER/S:** Brad Crawford x Fujimiya Ran

**DISCLAIMERS:** By no means does the series Weiss Kreuz belong to me. All I own is the story you're about to read. If you see places and people that resemble those that and whom you know, such is mere coincidence and nothing more.

**NOTE#1:** I have decided not to let ailments and papers bog me down in creating pieces from the stuff that keep on popping in my brain. I need mental release, and this is the best way to do it or I'll go crazy. Anyway, just a few reminders:

1. **_Blah_ **and **Blah** Reiterations or stresses

2. **_/Blah/_** Flashbacks or phone/messenger conversations

3. _/Blah/_ Conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking

4. _Blah_ Thoughts or random Japanese words (Most are footnoted)

**NOTE#2:** Thank you to Noire Sensus for all the quotes they have in their spiffy website. Much love!

**NOTE#3:** Please assume that the usual Glühen is not represented here. I just created my own Glühen world, thus the weirdness.

**NOTE#4:** This is an elaboration of the one-shot I created a long while back for the 30kisses community, so don't be surprised upon finding all thirty themes in here. This is in lieu of my finally stumbling upon the Crawford x Ran community after all those times I squirmed just to get a glimpse of something that featured my Weiss Kreuz OTP! XD

* * *

**FIRST PIECE: MILIEU**

"_You must understand the darkness _

_before you truly understand the power of the light"_

- Emily Jardine

* * *

"Someone needs to let up on the ice cream."

Brad Crawford gritted his teeth as he hauled his burden up on one of the more stable pieces of rock that survived the explosion. He knew it would come to this... from the last vision he had whilst engaged in the inconvenience of plummeting down a rocky cliff, he knew that three out of four members of Schwarz would escape unscathed... he knew that Weiß would somehow find the will to survive this manmade calamity...

But he never saw himself surfacing the deep with an additional baggage to take care of. A **_heavy_** additional baggage to be exact. Taking deep cleansing breaths, he levered himself up, drenched, dripping, onto the slab, grateful for reaching dry land – or something poorly resembling it – at last.

Then, impulsively, he looked down, staring at the one he had spent so much energy saving. He frowned. There was still an internal debate as to whether it was a wise move or not, and since the Elders jumbled up his abilities and left him with something close to nil, he couldn't quite grasp the necessity of his actions – or their consequences.

_Damn them. _He thought, gritting his teeth in annoyance. _Good thing they're dead... and I'll be able to gain complete control in a matter of days. _For the first time in his life, he thanked the instructors – or torturers when time arose – of Rosenkreuz for twisting his insides up. He became more independent that way – and stronger too.

He sighed – a dangerous feat for him who almost close to never, sighed in his entire life – at least when the babies who were his teammates were not the ones in question.

_What to do, what to do..._ His fingers, in their own accord, toyed with damp strands of crimson hair. The sound of the crashing waves were disturbing his quiet, running through his mind ceaselessly that he was compelled to close his eyes and let his senses shut down for a moment.

It was then that he felt exhaustion... only then that he felt the need to rest. However, given the excessive chain that was tied to him, the unconscious guy whom he couldn't dare leave alone despite his misgivings, he was not exactly in the position to do so. Opening his eyes slowly, he stared at the darkened skies. Nagi was, for sure, feeling miserable again. It was either that or the apocalypse they were hoping for somehow pushed through. He knew it was not the latter though, he was sure of it since the sacrifice was not present anymore... and the elders were now dead. He was not sure of the former as well, since the temporary barrier the elders put to control the boy upon emergence from Rosenkreuz inhibited his gift.

Feeling useless, he shook his head and turned his thoughtful gaze down at the lone person accompanying him. The itch in his hands demanded blood to be spilt, red, red blood spilling from his hands; hot, sticky and vibrant with ebbing life... this man was, after all, a former enemy – the one who had made all their dreams vanish in a rapid, uncontrolled explosion. Surprisingly, his mind was not cooperating. Something was nudging in the recesses of his own consciousness; something in it ached at the prospect of losing this man... even if it was his own hands that deprived him of living a second life.

Not knowing exactly what to do, he let his body relax, an internal sense guarding him for the meantime.

It wouldn't do him well to think too much as of present.

If he continued like this, he would definitely turn into another Farfarello.

_Not that it's a bad thing..._

**OxxxOxxxO**

Schuldig glared at the boy beside him.

"Stop pouting, will you?" He snarled, signalling the cab driver with his mind when they needed to make a turn. After much concentration, he actually had enough energy to flag down an unwilling taxi and control the driver's actions. Farfarello was, after all, losing much blood from where the jutting rock stabbed him on the shoulder. Schuldig hoped it didn't hit an artery or he would mourn forever for the loss of his source of comic, albeit morbid, amusement. Besides, he was sort of like the alternate leader. His authoritative leader was still AWOL – he wasn't even answering his frantic telepathic calls. It was either he was indeed lost, or he was still off from everything that transpired.

And Naoe Nagi, Wonder Boy Extraordinaire, was irritable now that they somehow lost contact with their leader whom he worshipped since he was in the Orphanage of Doom.

"Make me." The boy responded stubbornly.

The redhead was a hair's breadth from screaming. "**_Look_**, stupid, **you** can control the weather, right? At least, that's what our precious American said, so please, for the sake of him getting out of the waters alive, don't cause the wind to blow too much or a storm will cast him way off shore! He'll fuckin' **die**, you moron!" he growled, earning a gurgle of protest from Farfarello for being too loud. But he didn't care.

"What do you want me to do then, feel happy that we don't have him here yet?" Nagi glared right back, unafraid as usual.

"That's right, you nerd! For the sake of the weather and Crawford, do it!" With one of the cab's smelly backseat cushions, he muffed the boy's face and screamed almost incoherently in utter fury. "Now start unhinging your jaws and **_smile_**!"

**OxxxOxxxO**

The brewing storm dissipated after a few hours, quickly as if by magic, and he could only wonder why it was so. And, he couldn't discount the scenery before him, somehow, he felt lost in the vastness of it all.

The ruins were all too beautiful to behold as it stood darkly against the backdrop of perfectly blue sky. The calming hue was enough to add mysticism in the overall aura of the place. Crawford silently wished he learned how to paint instead of acquiring the skill of boxing... maybe he would be able to capture this moment not only in memory but also in still-life – made by his own hands.

Creating instead of destroying, that was his wish.

He wanted to create something unbreakable... something close to being pure... something beautiful beyond words.

He stared at his hands.

_I can only see red._

The red of blood...

The red of uncovered, festering wounds...

The red of the night when they were out plundering and murdering for their clients... for Takatori.

_The red of death. _He mused, eyes travelling down to where his companion still slumbered... obviously exhausted since he was still unconscious after last night's ordeal. He vaguely remembered helping set the trap in order to follow the old man's commands. He vaguely remembered seeing a young man years ago, dark of hair, eyes as purple as the sky transcended from a perfect blue to darker, more royal tones.

In its own volition, his hand reached out to touch alabaster skin. He could feel the gentle puff of minute scars marring invisibly, the smoothness of the surface jagged as a result.

Unseen... but very much felt.

Just like they were living their lives.

_Living only in our own worlds. _It seemed odd to compare such, but it was only the truth. They were virtually dead to the world but alive only to themselves as they faced their adversaries day after day, night after night.

Stopping abruptly, he let his hand drop once again to his knee and turned back to the brightening sky. He needed to rest some more, and he obviously couldn't do that on a slab of dusty rock. Besides, Schwarz needed to regroup... and he was one of those Schuldig thought to be lost, after all the desperate calls he was sending over to him mentally a while ago – stronger and louder than the accursed radio station at 90 kilohertz that Nagi listened to every single bloody morning.

Why the boy listened to such in an outmoded radio-cassette player was beyond him. They had state of the art gadgets after all.

Shakily, he stood up, righting himself and maintaining his balance. It took him a few moments to stabilise himself, his bones aching as he did. Maybe Schuldig, even while joking, was right when he suggested that he ingest a couple of, 'Wada Calcium CD3' as he called it, before each mission so his bones wouldn't disintegrate with old age. He smirked inwardly.

The idiot.

He was about to hop down and walk through shallow waters to the sandy shore when he scuffed against still damp leather boots. _This guy..._ It was a surprise for him that the other still hadn't woken up. For an assassin, that was something truly unusual. For a couple of moments, he debated on whether to just step over him and leave him there or...

He sighed for the nth time and shook his head, rolling his eyes in supplication.

_I almost died saving you, Fujimiya Ran – damn if I would leave you here alone and let my hard work go to waste._

With all the energy he could muster, he lugged him up and slung him on his shoulder.

"As I said before..." Crawford muttered as he struggled with the additional weight.

"Someone needs to let up on the ice cream... and I don't mean me, dammit."

**OxxxOxxxO**

For some strange reason, Fujimiya Ran was dreaming of vanilla-flavoured ice cream. Involuntarily, he swallowed, moving a bit to ease his discomfort. He frowned. Wasn't the point of eating ice cream to cool oneself?

But –

It was warm.

**OxxxOxxxO**

He could see the medical facility.

In between his trip from the shore to the hospital, he changed his carrying style. Crawford couldn't seem to straighten out his back without the redheaded Weiß's nose bumping to his ass. It was an uncomfortable ordeal.

So, for the sake of his sanity, he decided on carrying him around like a kid instead of lugging him around like some Neanderthal. Besides, he looked cooler that way.

He felt the other man snuggle deep in his arms and unconsciously, a smile wormed its way to his lips. There was something really cute in the way the other slept. It was like he was eating something and then feeling satisfied afterwards, enough to crawl into somewhere warm and crash... clinging to him even.

He looked exactly like his namesake – a cat.

Although Crawford would never admit it, he had always been a fan of the feline species. He remembered taking care of stray cats – at least until the people of Rosenkreuz leaned about it and killed them all in front of him. After the pain of losing one of his major anchors to sanity, he experienced enough trauma to let the elders toy with his mind whichever way they wanted to.

He remembered then that he swore, the minute he got out of the institution's backyard, he would take care of cats. And he did – much to Schuldig's dismay.

His first kitten was an Abyssinian.

**OxxxOxxxO**

It was warm.

He could feel the warmth seeping through his damp clothes... as if he was being cradled in the tender, loving arms of his own mother.

_But my mother is gone now. _Involuntarily, his body shivered. _What is happening? Where..._ Cautiously, he opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly to get rid of the bleary feel, clearing the image presented before him.

He blinked.

... And he blinked again.

He could see dirty white... a suit? A tie? He did not know. His brain was still fuzzy. He blinked again, trying to clear his senses – all to no avail. He felt heavy.

Fujimiya Ran took a deep breath as he felt himself being lowered to a cold, hard surface. It was the smell that intoxicated him. Formaldehyde... Medicine... Seawater... and a faint touch of men's perfume.

The perfumed seemed familiar, and he tried to place it as his mind went through foggy haze. He couldn't quite pinpoint it... maybe he could when he was feeling much better. The voice that came through his ears was familiar too. It made him think of eyeglasses, white suits and dark, intense gazes.

In a final effort to recover his bodily equilibrium, he blinked, eyes widening, pupils enlarging to accommodate much light so he could clearly see...

All he saw was a shock of black hair and he fell back into sudden unconsciousness.

**OxxxOxxxO**

He was surprised, but Crawford couldn't say he wasn't grateful for the assistance given to him by the aides in the hospital he brought his charge in. He was in fact, relieved that his wounds didn't have to fester before he got to base. Nagi was impossible to appease when panicky.

He groaned inwardly as he was ushered to an empty suite. Maybe the fact that he was a foreigner did the job of getting him the best facilities available (disregarding the fact that he was probably just going to get shot on the head – after all, this was the Magic Bus)... or maybe he just looked homicidal.

"Stop." He said in fluent Japanese, surprising his aide who was doing his best to speak in English. For a moment, the man blinked stupidly at him before finally getting it, and talking to him in sheepish tones.

"Sorry, sir. I thought you don't speak our language."

"It's fine." Crawford answered brusquely. "I don't need my own room. I'll be out of here once my companion a while ago wakes up fully."

"Oh, but the headmaster said that you need to rest since blood was –"

"Never mind what he said." The Schwarz leader growled gruffly, earning a look of utter helplessness from the other. _Oh what I would do to have Schuldig's abilities... _"I'm the patient, I say where I want to stay. When I said I'm **_not_ **going to stay in this room, then I'm not. I'm staying somewhere else."

"But sir, no one is allowed to –"

"I **_said_**, I'm going to stay somewhere else." He growled menacingly. It seemed to work, for as soon as the last word came out of his mouth, he was ushered to the other end of the hospital wing.

_Now that's better._

**OxxxOxxxO**

Ran woke up to total darkness. His pupils dilated, trying to absorb more light so he could see even the tiniest bit... and he failed. His whole body ached, and his torso felt very heavy. Gently, his fingers explored his own body and he felt the ridges that were the edges of what seemed to be bandages wrapped around him. The leaden feeling was present in his muscles, and he felt like a superhuman force tossed him repeatedly. He knew it was probably the huge waves that battered down on him in torrents.

Slowly, painfully, he tried to sit up, only to be restrained by forceful hands.

"Rest." Came the gruff words. "You need it."

Ran peered through the darkness. He could make a blurred figure standing close... who was it? He didn't know, though he wished he did. He wanted some sort of recognition in his part... he wanted to know who it was that was in the room with him.

He had a sinking feeling it was someone with the same bloodstained hands as his own, hands that would never be able to hold someone as pure and untouched as his sister. "Where am I?" He demanded. "And what am I doing here?"

"Magic Bus hospital, room number ten, third floor." The man informed him. "You're supposed to recuperate."

That much, he knew, for all the aching that was rapidly spreading throughout his bodily systems. "Hn." He sniffed. "Who are you and why are you here then?"

"Your temporary keeper."

"Temporary?"

"Until you wake up."

"I'm awake now."

"So I leave."

Silence. A hand rested gently on his head, sliver of skin touching his forehead, and as soon as it was felt, it was gone. The sharp zing of the windows made itself known to his ears, and he gasped in surprise. "You're not going to jump from there. There's a door you know."

"I know."

"We're on the third floor." _You will die._

"I know."

Ran frowned. The man was not afraid of death.

They were the same.

"Ch'. Do what you want." He growled, closing his eyes, both tired from overuse. "Die if you want, bastard."

"As you wish."

He felt the strong breeze waft in and caress his supine form on the hospital bed. There was no strangled scream he could relate to death. There was no heavy thunk of someone landing to his death... so he supposed the man survived jumping from the third floor hospital window.

And Ran had to wonder...

_Who is he?_

* * *

**TSUZUKU**

* * *

_**A/N:** Feedbacks are greatly appreciated! _


	2. 02 Byzantine

**TITLE:** Jigsaw

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**PART:** Two of Six

**WORD COUNT: **2,683

**CHARACTER/S:** Brad Crawford x Fujimiya Ran

**DISCLAIMERS:** By no means does the series Weiss Kreuz belong to me. All I own is the story you're about to read. If you see places and people that resemble those that and whom you know, such is mere coincidence and nothing more.

**NOTE#1:** I have decided not to let ailments and papers bog me down in creating pieces from the stuff that keep on popping in my brain. I need mental release, and this is the best way to do it or I'll go crazy. Anyway, just a few reminders:

1. **_Blah_ **and **Blah** Reiterations or stresses

2. **_/Blah/_** Flashbacks or phone/messenger conversations

3. _/Blah/_ Conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking

4. _Blah_ Thoughts or random Japanese words (Most are footnoted)

**NOTE#2:** Thank you to Noire Sensus for all the quotes they have in their spiffy website. Much love!

**NOTE#3:** Please assume that the usual Glühen is not represented here. I just created my own Glühen world, thus the weirdness.

**NOTE#4:** This is an elaboration of the one-shot I created a long while back for the 30kisses community, so don't be surprised upon finding all thirty themes in here. This is in lieu of my finally stumbling upon the Crawford x Ran community after all those times I squirmed just to get a glimpse of something that featured my Weiss Kreuz OTP! XD

* * *

**SECOND PIECE: BYZANTINE**

"_All are lunatics, but he who could analyse _

_his delusion is called a 'Philosopher'"_

Ambrose Bierce

* * *

The morning rush had just passed and he couldn't help the feeling of elation as he saw the last of the fangirls leave. It wasn't everyday that peace like this was given them, most often than not they were hunting down criminals and such.

A sharp pain emanated from his head and he winced, shaking it a bit before attending to the tulips that seemed to suddenly get too droopy for his tastes.

He sighed, staring at the limp leaves and looked up, eyes straying to his overenthusiastic teammate, Ken. He was drowning them as per usual. Honestly, the man didn't know control. He closed his eyes and prayed for patience.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

**OxxxOxxxO**

"What the hell did you do to yourself?"

Crawford took in Schuldig's slack jaw and petrified gaze before realising he was referring to what his appearance was at present. "I had a makeover." He responded wryly. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like Halloween – I mean, you look really classy and – you know, respectable..." The redhead stammered, backing away to the mansion's huge iron-wrought front door, eyes widening at the impact of the visible foot Nagi kicked against his shin.

"You look great, Crawford-san." The computer genius smiled tightly, a look of distress crossing his face, his single visible eye showing slivers of uncertainty as he surveyed his leader.

Crawford didn't know if he should take their comments negatively. After all, they didn't ring true. "Either you tell me what's wrong or I'll wring the truth out of both of you." He threatened, his shortening fuse threatening to blow.

Schuldig gulped and was about to say something when something flashed in their minds.

"Farfarello." They exclaimed in unison. It was rare after all, that the man made his existence known. He was still in a coma after the explosion, and they didn't want to get him off the machinery just yet. Crawford's vision showed him waking up in his room, flanked by a rejoicing Schuldig. It had been a few years – but he was still alive.

And he could still communicate through the bond they all shared.

He was a part of their inner world, one that only Crawford could utilise fully.

Something resembling a snort erupted from the man's lips, and in his mind's eye, he saw him smirk.

"That hurts God."

**OxxxOxxxO**

Ran was braiding his hair when Youji stumbled in carrying a huge pot of decorative ferns. Snickering inwardly, he made a mock stern face and raised a brow in supplication. "You're not drunk, are you, Kudou?"

From behind the tower of leaves came the scathing retort. "Let's see **_you_** carry this and I stand there braiding my goddamn hair!"

"Ah-ah-ah... no fighting!" Ken sing-songed, mopping up the floor in cheerful haste. He had a soccer game this afternoon, Ran knew, and the prospect of seeing his precious little children was enough to put him in such a happy daze. "Besides, you can't braid your hair, you cut it short, remember? Or is all the alcohol you consumed at last night's party affecting your brain?"

"_Teme_..." Youji growled, quickly setting the pot heavily down with a loud 'thunk!' "I swear, if you don't take that back, I will seriously hurt you."

Ken laughed, ducking swiftly as he stuck out his tongue, dashing towards the backroom in order to escape from the willowy menace that was his friend.

"**KEN**! Come back here! I will hurt you ten times over if you don't stop running away from – hey! Don't! That's my underwear! Ken!" Youji's screams faded as the warring pair went farther and farther away from Ran... until he couldn't hear them anymore.

Silently, he trudged towards the counter, picking a rag as he did. Deftly, he wiped the all-too-clean countertop repeatedly in an effort to keep his mind busy. His thoughts kept drifting to that lone day a couple of years back. The time when Omi was still their little Tsukiyono, the proverbial mother hen at such a young age... back at the time when Aya, his sister was still asleep, being held hostage to be offered as a sacrificial lamb by the cult that was SS.

Back to the moment when he heard the crashing waves of the unforgiving icy sea that nearly engulfed him. He swore he had not been able to swim effectively since his injuries hindered him to do so. He remembered passing out from sheer pain, and then waking up to warmth... comfort.

He was undoubtedly saved.

_But... by whom?_

His hand slowed. He remembered the smell of heady perfume... like the scent of gardenias in full blossom. It was very faint, but his trained nose located it. It was there. Continuously, he scanned his mind, hoping to find clues as to who his saviour was. He had to find him – he just had to.

He had to know who it was, so he could speak to him properly. He had to know so he could pour out his pain over being saved without his permission. He closed his eyes and backed towards the wall, sliding down in a show of exhaustion.

_I didn't want to live anymore... and yet I was saved._ His mind screamed. _I wanted to retire peacefully... I wanted to leave all the blood and death behind... I wanted to escape from all the insanity I was subjected to_.

Pain lashed out and clamped harshly into his heart, making him wince in quiet despair.

_I wanted to escape from my own reality._

I wanted to escape from who I am.

**OxxxOxxxO**

It didn't matter to him if he looked like – as Schuldig put it, 'Dracula Reborn'. What was wrong with a monocle anyway? And he liked his new hair. It was blond and that showed him in a more aristocratic light. Nagi was being ridiculous when he said he looked better with his hair all black, Farfarello too when he said he would like to stain his skin a bloody red and give him fangs or something. They were just not exposed to class, that was all.

He glared at the bus driving slowly in front of him. Restlessly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he planned the course of his visit. His fully restored precognitive abilities were now stronger, what with no one to inhibit it. For once he was glad he had it.

It seemed like he was going to save someone again this time...

Now if he could only get ahead of the stupid bus.

**_/"Schuldig."/_**

/"Yes, Oh Horrific One?"/

The American's brow twitched. **_/"Don't call me that."/_**

**_/"Fine, fine. So, what is it, Crawfish?"/_**

Another twitch. **_/"I will not tie you to your bed and expose you to the wolves tonight if you get the guy driving the bus ahead of me out of the way."/_**

/"Impatient, are we?"/

Crawford gritted his teeth and growled in irritation.

_**/"The wolves, Schuldig, the wolves."/**_

**OxxxOxxxO**

"_Ne_, Ken... have you noticed anything different in Aya?"

Ken sighed and mopped the mess they made after their pillow fight. The synthetic fibres were littered on the floor, and when they came back to their senses, they thought in sync that when their leader saw what was left of the living room, they would end up dead and floating in the nearest river.

Fujimiya didn't like messes.

They made him murderous – the same kind whenever he learned his sister's condition was compromised in the past.

He was scary.

"Hmm?" Ken responded absently. "He's not much of our beloved recluse... is that the answer you're looking for?"

"Not really – that one's too obvious." Youji answered thoughtfully, ears pricking as a sound of a fast-running car suddenly ground to a screeching halt nearby. Then he relaxed, after all, it was impossible to get attacked this early in the morning – and they weren't activated fully yet... just some minor jobs such as research and such. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'uncertain' and 'indecisive'."

"Geh, when he hears that, he would definitely kill you."

The blonde gave him a sidelong look. "It's true though." He continued. "He has been really... loose the past few years – actually, right after our last battle with Schwarz... I wonder why?"

"I don't know... maybe he's trying to practice being instructor-like since that was what Omi-kun told us after we recuperated. We have another mission soon, and I can feel it." Ken offered helpfully. "Maybe it's just for show or something."

"Nah." Youji sighed. "He'll never be loose that long just for show."

Ken considered his friend's words in silence. "You're right." He admitted, nodding his head once. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he has a good reason."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm done!" The young soccer instructor crowed gleefully. "I'm gonna go help Aya! Bye Youji!"

Surprised at the speed the other worked, he stared at the mess on his side of the living room and tried to hold off the other so as to not leave him and instead pitch in to help – but too late, the other was already putting his cleaning materials in order.

_Great... I'm losing the old Kudou Charm_.

**OxxxOxxxO**

There was something off and Ran felt it.

Purple irises made known its presence to the world as he opened his eyes... and encountered a pair of chocolate browns gazing in amusement down at him. He flushed in mortification, standing up immediately and dusting the back of his pants. "What..." He cleared his throat. "May I help you, sir?" He asked in his best 'composed businessperson' voice – which wasn't exactly different from his usual – at all.

"I've never seen a florist with quite the same expression you had a while ago." Came the equally straight comment. "Something bothering you?"

A tiny frown marred Ran's brows. A _gaijin_... a foreigner... and yet can speak fluent Japanese. It was familiar, the voice and the way the man held himself up. He couldn't quite place it but there was something nudging his memory. He quickly pushed it away and turned back to the impending conversation – something he hoped wouldn't take long, but that really depended on how it would flow, he reminded himself. Silently, he steeled himself for another row with a foreign customer.

He had enough of foreigners. They all reminded him of Schwarz, the evil beings who kidnapped his sister twice and tried to kill all of them. They were unforgivable, and he, of all four of Weiß, was the one who was steadfast in his decision to keep foreigners at arm's length.

The man was blond, not unusual for the occasional tourists that plagued their area, but something in him screamed wrong... _He looks like someone out of a second-rate horror movie_. He thought.

Ran was certain this man was not born that way. He knew since he was the same. His hair hadn't always been red. The roots of his hair were darker. "None of your concern... sir." He grated pointedly.

He was irked even more when the corner of the man's lips curled up in a smile – as if laughing at a private joke – at his expense.

He scowled.

"What?" He asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest in obvious defiance.

The man shook his head. "Nothing. You are just the same when – **_as_** someone I knew years ago." He gave a small smile. There was a moment of contemplative silence before the customer turned his gaze at the row of roses lining the display shelves east of the counter. "I was entranced by your roses." He said calmly in the face of Ran's burgeoning death glare. "They are close to overflowing from the containers, would it be possible for me to acquire some?"

Such formality was not alien to him, and slowly, his blood began to boil. It reminded him of his late father's business associates, back when they were still a happy family. Those associates, who betrayed his father flat out, sold him to Takatori. Just for that, Ran swore he would charge double... even triple. "You could." He said flippantly. "How many do you want?"

The man turned back to him once more, darkened eyes unsettling him so much that he had to turn away or he would waver. "All your red roses."

Ran stepped back in surprise. All their roses for the day were red. He scanned the shelf and then stared back at him. "You're not kidding?"

The customer shook his head.

"You're going to take all three containers?"

"I believe that's how many they are."

Snapping his mouth shut, the redheaded florist worked, carrying the containers one by one over the counter, aware of the man's scrutiny as he did. He was watching him closely, and it made him sweat a bit. It was unsettling... it was disturbing. When he got the last container on the counter, it looked as if it sprouted a garden of wild roses. "Do you want the flowers wrapped or do you want to transfer everything in several pots?"

"I want to have them as they are now." Came the almost inaudible response.

Ran understood, but was a little taken aback. "That would be –"

The man handed him a black, translucent card and smiled once again, a sliver of perfect teeth visible under red lips. "Just charge it. I'm not used to carrying cash."

As he worked with the credit card machine, he felt intense eyes still on him. He wanted to ask why but he just couldn't bring himself to.

It was his customer who broke the silence. "You are troubled."

He glared at the man as he handed him back his card and his receipt. "Excuse me?"

"You are afraid."

Ran's glare sharpened. "I am not."

Wordlessly, the man nodded, eyes unreadable, putting the redhead back to the defensive. He was about to make a scathing reply when Ken suddenly burst through the backroom door and cried out in surprise at the sight of all the flowers on the counter.

"Oh my good lord! You're buying all those flowers?" He asked in awe. Ran wanted to smack him on the head. _Ken, you idiot... isn't it obvious?_

There was something close to amusement that showed in the man's eyes as he answered. "Yes, and I need someone to help me put them in my car's compartment."

"I'll help!" Ken said cheerfully – as per usual, drying his hands on his apron. He whistled appreciatively. "Who are all these for? Your girl?"

The man's gaze hardened. It seemed serious to Ran, and he swore that for a moment, he looked close to homicidal. When he blinked, it was gone. "No – for a friend. He was mauled by a... cat."

Ken stared at him in disbelief. "You must be kidding me!"

He smiled, somewhat cynically in Ran's opinion. "No, not the domesticated cat. A big one... while he was in Siberia. A tiger actually. He mauled him and sent him falling down an abyss... into the icy water. He was in a coma ever since."

_The space between dream and reality._ Ran mused, feeling pity for the man's friend. _People have their own comas... even those who are still alive and well_.

Ken's eyes started showing signs of discomfort. "I'm sorry." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked. It's too painful for you."

"It is, but I get by." The man responded. "Please take that to my car, I don't want to be late for my appointment."

"Aye sir!" He said brightly, trying to do a mock salute while juggling with a heavy container of roses, before hurrying outside.

"And you." He turned to Ran, an unreadable emotion crossing his face. "Are one lucky person to be alive."

A jolt of something resembling shock ran up his spine. He had a feeling that the guy knew exactly what he was brooding about when he came in. "Why do you –"

"No reason."

And he sauntered towards the exit, hand waving farewell...

Leaving Ran with his mind occupied with the image of intense dark eyes peeling away the layers of his soul.

* * *

**TSUZUKU**

* * *


	3. 03 Psychosis

**TITLE:** Jigsaw

**AUTHOR:** Simply Kim

**PART:** Three of Six

**WORD COUNT: **2,597

**CHARACTER/S:** Brad Crawford x Fujimiya Ran

**DISCLAIMERS:** By no means does the series Weiss Kreuz belong to me. All I own is the story you're about to read. If you see places and people that resemble those that and whom you know, such is mere coincidence and nothing more.

**NOTE#1:** I have decided not to let ailments and papers bog me down in creating pieces from the stuff that keep on popping in my brain. I need mental release, and this is the best way to do it or I'll go crazy. Anyway, just a few reminders:

1. **_Blah_ **and **Blah** Reiterations or stresses

2. **_/Blah/_** Flashbacks or phone/messenger conversations

3. _/Blah/_ Conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking

4. _Blah_ Thoughts or random Japanese words (Most are footnoted)

**NOTE#2:** Thank you to Noire Sensus for all the quotes they have in their spiffy website. Much love!

**NOTE#3:** Please assume that the usual Glühen is not represented here. I just created my own Glühen world, thus the weirdness.

**NOTE#4:** This is an elaboration of the one-shot I created a long while back for the 30kisses community, so don't be surprised upon finding all thirty themes in here. This is in lieu of my finally stumbling upon the Crawford x Ran community after all those times I squirmed just to get a glimpse of something that featured my Weiss Kreuz OTP! XD

* * *

**THIRD PIECE: PSYCHOSIS**

"_If you find yourself falling into madness – **dive**."_

Malkavian Proverb –

* * *

He could see him clearly, watchful eyes straining to note his every move, his every fluid motion. The grace was still there, running forward, coupled with the beauty of the bloodstained _katana_.

"A bloodthirsty god." He murmured.

"Yep, and you've been watching over him in between our missions for a couple of years now."

Crawford gave his teammate a pointed look. "Says the person who stalks his past lovers as a pastime."

"Ouch." Schuldig responded dryly.

"Indeed." He fired back.

"What do you like about him anyway?" Schuldig did one of his newer versions of 'The Hair Flip' and snatched his monocle, peering through it as if trying to figure if it was just the graded thing or his leader had gone crazy. "Even through this I can't see anything except the old asshole, who, if I may add, seems to know how to smile now, grew his hair out and dyed it a darker and duller shade of red!"

"Schuldig, you're the one to talk." Crawford retorted wryly. "You dyed your hair green before, remember? Besides, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder."

His eyes bulged in disbelief, even larger now, he noted, than when he first saw Crawford's new look. "Oh my God, I'm sorry Farfarello, Brad – you sound like you're in love!"

Crawford didn't answer him. He had seen this coming, and he did not dodge away from it. Schuldig was someone who pried into people's businesses and he had no energy anymore to argue with him. It was pointless since he could read minds anyway... not that he could read him clearly, but they knew each other so well that it didn't need any kind of telepathic ability for the other to figure him out.

_Let him believe what he wants to believe_.

He could feel Farfarello's consciousness stirring deep within the recesses of his brain. He was living there for the meantime, while his body was in coma. Two years and he hadn't the ability to wake up. They had been communicating, they had been killing people together.

They were of one mind when it came to the moments when heads literally rolled and screams reverberated along with suffering groans that came along with eternal pain and anguish. He calmed Farfarello down by drawing other minds in his dreamscape, and it was sweeter when the ones being tortured were members of the organisation... such gratification, provided by someone who understood.

**_/Crawford... /_**

It was Farfarello.

_**/Is that your precious Weiß kitty? Is it true that he tastes like candy/**_

He stiffened, taking note of the teasing tone. His gaze swerved once more to Schuldig, who wore a self-satisfied grin on his face. He scowled. _**/Farfarello... have you been talking to this guy again/**_

/We always talk. /

Irritated, he snatched his monocle away from Schuldig's grasping fingers and slipped it in his pocket. Everything was a bit blurry, but he could recognise his companion's big, fat head anywhere.

He lifted his hand and whacked the idiot on the head, laughing inwardly at the loud expression of pain that tumbled out of his mouth along with several colourful German expletives Crawford could fully understand.

Farfarello was doubling up in manic laughter, encased safely in Crawford's sequencing mind.

**OxxxOxxxO**

Pretending to be a teacher wasn't that much of a thing for Ran. He had been schooled to do such task while he was still studying, substituting for his teachers when they were absent, doing his part as a respectable member of the academe.

It was part of his mission, seeking to familiarise himself along with the others, with the true nature of the one named "Epitaph". It was a strange feeling, chilling even, for as far as he had seen, they didn't look all too human at all, Epitaph's minions. It made him uneasy, not knowing anything concrete regarding the madness that was all around him. It was already way past the usual amount of time they had over fact-finding... and yet nothing. How could they kill someone who remained anonymous and elusive? He wanted to rest his mind and throw everything away if he could – but he couldn't. He had a job to do, and he made it his sole rule to finish all tasks assigned to him. It was just the way he operated – no matter how distasteful.

Another thing that bothered him was that, through it all, even when they were outside and about to start the endless massacre, he had seen two familiar figures cutting the darkness. The nudging in his brain was there once again, and he couldn't seem to dispel the sudden need he had to locate said personalities.

But he was in the middle of a mission.

Even though it seemed as if there were eyes watching his every move, he didn't feel threatened at all.

He had to get answers, what with all the supernatural surrounding him.

He had to.

But before that, he had to stay alive.

**OxxxOxxxO**

Crawford's fascination was overflowing now.

He had always thought of himself as someone perfect for all the changes artificial and mental that he was subjected to since he was young, but when he learned more about Fujimiya Ran, his concept of perfection changed.

There was something intricately perverse in the way he was holding himself up, the leader of Weiß. It was as if he was becoming more and more used to being herded around and chained and slashed and shot... he was fast becoming one of the most masochistic creaures he had ever known. However, when considering his life outside of work...

_He seems like a child in many ways._ He mused. He knew the moment he carried him to Magic Bus. Ran's hand just clenched onto Crawford's torn and soggy shirt, unconsciously demanding support. Ran's hand grasped a part of his dress shirt and held onto it, as if mere letting go would mean his death.

For a while, Crawford was irritated, but that soon changed when the unconscious man rubbed his cheek onto his clothed chest and snuggled in deeper into his arms. Yes, just like a child... and it fascinated him to no end. How he could keep the innocence still intact was something Crawford did not understand.

He closed his eyes and a rueful look crept onto his face. He had been corrupted since his youth, thinking that violence would solve most of his problems, using his gift as a means to get what he wanted. Rosenkreuz had been particularly kind to him, except for the cat episodes and their aftermaths, and now, thinking back on those horrible memories of Schuldig trying to escape the seeming prison countless times and getting punished for it, of Farfarello being electrocuted at every expression of trying to reach out back to his former religion, and little Nagi who lost everything at such a young age, pushed into a dark world he did not know much of... he realised one thing – that he was as evil as his predecessors were back then.

He could remember the start of change when Schwarz was formed. Such a tightly knit group whom, after a lot of adjusting became something of a family... something he hungered for in the depths of his soul. He knew the others were the same way, even the slightly unbalanced Farfarello who seemed to understand more than he let on.

He was still in control, of course, but that changed upon introduction to Weiß. He had crossed paths with them countless times that every one of their moves was imprinted in his memory, every contour of their faces, every detail of their features. He scoffed at them fighting like normal humans do and at the fact that it was what they would be forever, _**humans**_.

It was only two years ago, when their dream collapsed into nothingness that he realised he was not as invincible and unrivalled as he thought he was. He was not always in control. He was not the one who changed the destiny of everyone around him.

He was simply a creature – one that is less normal for he had a rare gift of precognition.

Then, Fujimiya Ran happened.

He realised that there was someone who was better than him at living his life... better than him at keeping his emotions hidden deep inside... better than him at keeping people close, no matter how much pretence he put in keeping them away.

Fujimiya Ran exceeded him in many ways.

It was perhaps the drive he had for giving him the necessary aid he needed back in the hospital.

He gave him his blood.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his arm. Carefully, almost lovingly, he caressed the spot where the tube was formerly inserted. He could almost feel him move... could almost hear him breathe.

They were one now in many ways.

It made him feel invincible once again.

**OxxxOxxxO**

Ran was tired, and it showed in the way he dragged himself to bed. Of course no one was going to disturb him tonight – both Youji and Ken were doing just as badly as he was – the former nursing a truckload of bruises on his back for being thrown around too much.

Discarding his clothes, for the first time messily, on the floor, he walked naked to his bathroom. He had to take a shower. He reeked with much blood and gore was sticking to his skin. His favourite glove had been slashed and now he was sporting a slight gash on the back of his left hand – he had to find another glove or have one custom-made as early as possible. Kritiker had to be contacted for it. Their head repair person told him thrice now that he was not being careful.

It was showing.

He wanted to die, really, and he fought to acquire that saving grace. He wanted to die with dignity, and suicide was not the answer. He wanted to die in battle so he could forgive himself – like what he had hoped for at the time of the explosion.

But someone saved him.

He closed his eyes as he stepped into the shower and turned the knob. He felt the warm wetness slide down his skin, felt the droplets of water pelt him almost painfully. If it was any other day, he would be enjoying this, but it wasn't. He just came from a mission wherein almost all his ideals were tested.

His thoughts reverted back to the occurrences a while ago.

Youji tried to kill him tonight. He didn't quite understand why, since they were fighting on the same side after all. The shock jumbled his mind a bit. He never thought he would ever feel the acrid slide and the dangerous grip of the other man's cutting wires.

It seemed he knew something they didn't.

**OxxxOxxxO**

At first he was not sure what woke him up. However, the sight of the tall mechanical god made itself know to him. It was laughing, hysterical at the sight of chaos and destruction around him.

_Epitaph_.

Encased by raging fire, the area seemed too unstable, and yet, the god was not relenting. It was not relinquishing its hold on the creatures panicking around it.

In the middle of it all was the familiar figure, bloodied, empty of all hope. His eyes were unfocused as he stared at the supercomputer. Crawford's eyes widened, heart beating fast as he watched, almost in slow motion, the young man charging towards it, katana raised body thrusting forward menacingly.

He couldn't move.

All he could do was watch the man charge towards obvious death.

He opened his mouth to call out his name.

Nothing came out.

And countless writhing tubes emanated from behind the god, piercing the man in thousand points, sucking his blood away... sucking the blood that Crawford had given him that one enlightening day.

He closed his eyes at the sight of the crimson river ebbing away from all too pale skin...

He heard laughter... cruel, cruel laughter...

And everything was still.

Slowly, aware of the gruesome display he was sure to see, he opened his eyes – only to see his ceiling looking down on him. The lavishly painted panelling drawing him back to the real world.

The same dream he had all those nights before... one of the reasons why he cast a watchful eye on Weiß.

_A vision_. He thought almost convulsively. Goosebumps raced down his arms and he tugged his blanket further up his chin for warmth. _A horrifying vision_...

_**/"Epitaph." /**_

Farfarello's voice resonated in his mind.

_**/"God." /**_ Crawford agreed, tiredly. _**/"It's finally here among us." /**_

There was a moment of silence before his friend's voice crept back into his senses.

_**/"Let us kill god." /**_

And Crawford just had to agree.

**OxxxOxxxO**

It was the sudden creak that put Ran on the defensive. _Katana_ in hand, he pointed the tip at the intruder. Upon recognition, he relaxed and lowered his weapon. Still guarded and a little apprehensive, he nodded, and it gave the newcomer the signal that he was allowed to come in.

"Aya."

It seemed he didn't need to gather up his courage and knock on Youji's door tonight.

"Youji."

"Aya, I –"

"You wanted to kill me."

The air was heavy as silence reigned. "Sorry about that, but I –" The blonde finally started, but was cut off with Ran's scathing remark. "If Omi-kun didn't hit you with a well-aimed arrow, I'd be dead."

Youji's eyes widened, and a strange look passed before he finally bowed his head and nodded. He was apologetic, Ran knew, but his admission just escalated the slight trauma he suffered over the matter. It was like Shion all over again.

"Tsujii-sensei told me a secret today." Youji started, leaning against the heavy door. "She said she knew a way for people to forget the past and start anew."

The redhead's glare abated, replaced by both confusion and interest. _A way to forget the past... how convenient._ He thought absently, a strange fluttering emanating from his heart. "Isn't that a bit ridiculous?" He asked cautiously.

"Aya, for a desperate man, anything is better than nothing."

Ran had to agree. What would it be like to forget the past? Youji was not the only one suffering... what if everyone forgot their painful pasts and started new lives without such burden? But if the past was forgotten... what was the point of living in the present?

"She said Epitaph would help."

"Epitaph?"

Youji nodded. "That was why I stopped you tonight. Now that I thought about it clearly... I realise I shouldn't have done that and instead, tell you guys about it."

"Do you really want to erase your past so badly, Youji?"

"Doesn't anybody?"

"Aren't you just escaping from it?"

"I know." The blonde sighed, looking at him pleadingly. "I want to escape, Aya... I really want to."

Amethyst eyes narrowed as a sudden realisation dawned upon him.

"But without the past, Youji... what would you be?"

Green eyes flashed. "A new person."

Ran shook his head and sheathed his _katana_. He stood up and whacked him on the head lightly with it. "No, stupid. An empty shell – without a reason to live since you can't remember who you are."

Silence.

"Oh."

A grateful sigh escaped from the tight lips. "You finally understood. Seriously, you're worse than Sena-kun sometimes." The Weiß leader gave him a painful poke with the tip of his sword's sheath, earning a satisfying gasp from the taller man. "Now go to sleep. If you still want to escape your past, bump your head hard against the metal ball of the huge tractor downtown and get yourself a severe case of amnesia. It works the same way."

"Aya."

"Youji."

"You're an asylum god."

"Youji – _shi-ne_."

* * *

**TSUZUKU**

* * *


End file.
